


A Primeval Dawn

by ancestrallizard



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Horror, M/M, Multi, OC Focused Story, Post-Apocalypse, Rating will stay a G, Tags May Change, Takes place a few generations after the current arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21616915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancestrallizard/pseuds/ancestrallizard
Summary: For longer than memory, Riverclan has stood strong, a steady rock in the merciless currents of the world.But when the world turns upside-down, will Riverclan change as well, taking a new shape, as their namesake does? Or will they crumble and fall apart, destroyed by a new primeval world?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	A Primeval Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> And so begins this. Thing. It's been a very long time since I first read warriors, so some details about it/Riverclan might be a bit off.

No one, not even the elders, could ever remember such a bountiful greenleaf.

The river ran clean and untainted. No twolegs had set foot near it all season, and prey ran wild and unafraid in their absence. The other clans were sharing in the good fortune as well; No one had set a paw over the borders in over a moon, and any crossing patrols greeted each other with calm acknowledgement instead of bared fangs and teeth. It was peaceful, and a better alternative to fighting, but was also more than a bit disheartening to the young warriors – how could one make a name for themself if there were no battles to win glory in?

Perhaps through hunting. Reedclaw entered the Riverclan camp at the end of an evening patrol more than a little bit proud of the rare water vole clenched tightly in his jaws, its tail dragging in the damp grass. The other members of the patrol split away, most to the warriors’ hollow for a well-earned rest, and Sparrowheart and Leafpaw out to the river to practice fishing.

The young warrior marched through camp with his tail held high. Cats were all around, sleek-pelted without a rib or spine in sight, eating and playing without a worry, and it warmed him inside and out. More than ever he was glad he was finally a warrior, so that he could protect peace like this.

The brown and white tom passed his clanmates with muffled mews of greeting, and was greeted almost always in turn. He bypassed the well-stocked freshkill pile, as well as the flat patch of grass where other warriors were taking their evening meal as the sun sank in the sky. He could have eaten with them, or he could have eaten it when the vole practically leapt out at him from a thicket at the end of the patrol. He was certainly hungry enough to. Still, Reedclaw restrained himself. There was someone he wanted to eat with – without them, the vole might as well be crowfood.

Even with his nose full of prey scent, the medicine cat’s hollow was pungent; he could have followed it blind. A cat emerged from the darkness, dried leaves still clinging to her long black coat and a bundle of herbs in her jaws. She carefully placed it on a wide flat rock beside the entrance and began to sort the leaves into even piles.

Reedclaw sat, placing the vole delicately in the wet grass. “Shadetail!”

She didn’t look up. “Reedclaw, good. Willowstripe was just asking for someone to pull some ticks from behind her ears.”

What? He was a warrior now - wasn’t he done running errands for the elders? He would if he had to, of course, it was for the clan, but – 

Shadetail finally looked up, purring loudly with amusement. “Oh, don’t look like that! I just wanted to see if you actually would – some warriors don’t stop thinking like apprentices for a long while.”

“Oh.” Reedclaw’s tail curled up around his paws. Even as a joke, it still stung a little. Shadetail wasn’t the first or last to point out he was technically still the youngest warrior in the clan. Did he still act that much like an apprentice? He hadn’t been for moons, but there also hadn’t been much chance to prove that he wasn’t outside of his assessment. 

The dark furred medicine cat turned back to her herbs. “What did you want? I assume the water vole is a long overdue gift for a poor medicine cat working alone for her clan, day in and day out?”

He looked down at the fresh-kill, vaguely guilty, and resolved to catch another for her soon. “Ah, no. Is Greyfin okay to leave?”

“Deny me food, and my only help?” She shook her head. “There’s no respect for medicine cats these days.”

As if summoned, a shape all but burst from the den behind her, dropping a bundle of herbs on the rock next to the others and meowing excitedly. “Reedclaw!”

Reedclaw felt his heart flip over, both at the sight of the grey striped tom and at the sound of his name. Reedclaw hadn’t been ready to join him when he became an apprentice, and once he finally did Greyfin was already close to becoming a warrior. The other warrior never looked down on him for it or stopped being his friend, but the difference always chaffed at Reedclaw like a thorn in his paw. Hearing Greyfin say his name and affirming that they were finally equals made him feel as dizzy as the night he stopped being Reedpaw all over again.

“Greyfin!” Reedclaw gently bumped his head against the other warrior’s, purring. “How are you feeling?”

Greyfin’s eyes practically shone. “Great! Like I wasn’t even sick in the first place.”

It was true. Greyfin barely smelled like the lingering chest infection at all anymore. Instead, he looked like he always did, strong and muscled, with wide grey stripes and deep blue eyes that radiated the calm of a river.

“Can I leave, Shadetail?” Greyfin asked the medicine cat. “I’ll help you finish sorting herbs after, I promise.”

“Of course.” She glanced between the two of them, and Reedclaw felt oddly exposed. “I don’t think there’s anyone over by the willow stump.”

So he went with Greyfin to the old stump on the edge of the camp – not because he wanted to be along with him, of course, that was ridiculous. It was just that privacy might be good for the other warrior. He was still recuperating after all, and Reedclaw didn’t want him to be crowded.

They’d barely lay down in the soft grasses before Greyfin started taking big, hungry bites from the river vole. Reedclaw quickly followed, and between the two warriors the prey didn’t last long.

With fresh food in his belly, the sound of the river flowing strong nearby and Greyfin beside him, their tails nearly brushing, Reedclaw felt entirely content.

The grey warrior licked leftover droplets of blood from his whiskers. “Is something the matter, Reedclaw? You’re not usually this quiet.”

Reedclaw stretched, yawning wide before falling over onto his side. “I was just thinking about how good this all is. Camp’s safe, everyone’s fed, and there haven’t been any twolegs around in moons. It barely gives a warrior anything to do!”

He purred at his own quip, but Greyfin didn’t respond in kind the way he thought he would. Instead, the other warrior stared at him silently before looking skyward. Reedclaw caught the barest trace of fear-scent on the late-breeze. “Greyfin?”

“I’ve been thinking.” Greyfin said slowly, eyes not leaving the sky. “Something about this doesn’t feel right. Why would the twolegs leave?”

“Why do twolegs do anything?” Reedclaw began to groom himself, washing his paw and brushing it behind his ears. “I think you’ve been cooped up too long.”

“I’m serious, Reedclaw.” Greyfin insisted. “They haven’t been around all greenleaf, and I couldn’t find any in newleaf. I haven’t heard their monsters in twolegplace, and I haven’t seen or heard the sky-monsters either.”

Reedclaw looked up, too. There was nothing out of the ordinary there, just a bright evening sky and a pair of noisy jackdaws flying against red clouds, looking for somewhere to roost before the sun went down. Now that Greyfin mentioned it, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen either a twoleg sky-monster, strange beings with stiff wings that screamed as they flew, or a ground monster.

“Maybe they just decided to move on.” He ventured, returning to grooming. “Or, maybe they found something better somewhere else, and they’ll finally leave the river for those who actually know how to use it.”

“But all at once?” Greyfin’s tail twitched in agitation, fear-scent growing stronger. “Do you remember the stories about when the clans first settled the lake?”

“Of course, they’re Willowstripe’s favorites. What does that have to do with twolegs?”

“The clans drove away the foxes and badgers. For mice now, its like there’s never been anything but cats. What if we left?”

Reedclaw’s shoulders tensed, as if the root of his friend’s worries was a piece of prey he could corner. “If we left, the badgers and foxes would probably come back,” He puzzled out, “And the mice wouldn’t know how to hide from them. So we’re the mice? What would replace the twolegs, then?” 

“I don’t know.” Greyfin admitted. “And I don’t know if they were chased off, or just left, and something will come by to take their place anyway. I just – I just feel like something’s happening, and it’s not good.”

His voice was more quiet and wretched than Reedclaw was going to stand. He curled up close, pressing their pelts together as he began to lick his shoulder, straightening the ruffled fur. He still smelled like the herbs in Shadetail’s den. Greyfin tucked his head into his paws and sighed, the dark fur along his spine falling flat as he calmed down.

“It’s okay,” Reedclaw said between licks. “We’re all okay. If anything does happen, we’ll get through it together.”

As a clan, and otherwise, Reedclaw thought. Whether anything happens, or nothing happens, I won't leave your side.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for getting this far! I'm not if I'll get much farther than this, but it's been kicking around my head for months, so I wanted to get it down somewhere.


End file.
